Karen Nazor HillIt's official. I'm old.
On Sept. 26, I celebrated my 62nd birthday. And yes, I still celebrate. It's fun. I like cake, ice cream and presents. Kids don't get to have all the fun.
But I'm old because I now qualify for Social Security retirement benefits. At 62, I would receive just 75 percent of the monthly benefit since the full benefit doesn't kick in until age 66. I am several years away from being Medicare-qualified at 65, and we all know the cost of health insurance. Ugh.
Don't think I haven't thought about early retirement. (I hope my bosses aren't reading my column this week because I'm not quite ready to hang up my byline). I have. A lot.
I'd love to spend more time with my three grandchildren, travel with my husband, (though that takes money and I wouldn't be making any), work on craft projects (I've been saving bottle caps for a decade just for that reason), thoroughly clean my house more often (it doesn't presently top my daily "to do" list), walk my two Chihuahuas, sit in the hot tub for hours every day and, when it's warm, swim.
But am I really ready to retire?
No.
And, according to an article written by Times Free Press reporter Casey Phillips and published in Sunday's Life section, I'm not the only Social Security-qualified American who's not ready to concede to being "old."
Dr. Walter Bortz, a clinical associate professor of medicine at Sanford University and the author of many books about longevity and aging, said baby boomers "have exhibited much higher expectations for their twilight years' quality of life than past generations."
"They will be more activist, more informed and less tolerant of inefficiency and incompetence, but very concerned about their own personal well-being," Bortz writes on his website. "There will be less interest in how old you are or what disease you have, than in what you can do. This emphasis on function is fundamentally what life is all about in the first place. ... Their focus will be more on what you can do -- what is right about you -- rather than what is wrong about you. Health, not disease, should be celebrated."
Right on, Dr. Bortz.
Who cares that I'm 62? I love my job. I love being a writer. I work with a group of people who make me laugh every day, challenge me, teach me new things, and, for real -- as my 7- and 4-year-old granddaughters would say -- make me feel young.
And, to be honest, I act young. I wear cool clothes; I care about my appearance; I am active (mostly playing with my grandchildren) and, thank goodness, I'm in good health.
I've been a writer at this newspaper (formerly with the Chattanooga Free Press) since 1985. I've bonded with many of my colleagues, some of whom I consider to be my closest friends. But I realize that, when I retire, there are some of these folks I'll likely never see again.
Throughout my 30 years at the newspaper, I have slipped and referred to it as "school" instead of "work." School is where we make our first friends and, for some of us, spend 12 years together. I loved school. As an adult, work is where you make friends. And, for some of us, spend decades together. I love my job.
I started this job as a young mother of four. Nowadays I'm a mother of four adults, a stepmother of two adults and a grandmother of three young children. And, for now, retirement is in the future.
Even though I'm old.
Contact Karen Nazor Hill at khill@timesfreepress.com or 423-757-6396.